The Untold Story Of A Ravager Spy
A/N: Ok. This is the first fanfic I've actually posted for other people to read. So I'm pretty nervous about it, but I've had this idea in the back of my head for a while now and I decided to just run with it. Anyway, this story is based off of The Sable Quean, which is the 21st novel in the Redwall series. While my plot line is fairly similar to the original book, I tend to put my own spin on things and altered the storyline a bit. Also, as you may be able to tell from the title, the main character of this story is Gliv! I have always liked her and I thought she deserved a story of her own. Umm... just a heads up, since this is the Redwall universe we're dealing with here, there will be battle scenes. Nothing too graphic, but just prepare yourself. Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish, I do not and will never own the rights to the Redwall series. So all of the original Sable Quean characters belong to Brian Jacques. Prologue There she lay, the sounds of the battle she was supposed to be fighting growing more distant by the second. Even though Gliv knew she had to get up, she was just too tired. She felt as though she was half asleep and completely dazed. Like she was entering a deep sleep instead of laying helplessly in the middle of a battlefield. It startled the stoat how indifferent she was about her situation. No matter how many times the soldiers around her yelled for reinforcements or how many times she looked down to see fresh crimson blood pooring out of where a spear had embedded itself into her side, Gliv couldn't bring herself to stand. The pain was too bad and she was just too bloody tired. As she faded in and out of consciousness, Gliv let her thoughts occupy her mind in an effort to drown out the excruciating pain brought on by her wound. Guess ye were right after all mom. I really shouldn't 'ave come 'ere. I was just tryin' to help you... please forgive me! Gliv's thoughts shifted from her mother and the mistakes she'd made in her life, to the better things she'd experienced during her time in the Ravager army. The friends she had made and the good times they had together. training with Zwilt and becoming a better fighter because of him. Pulling off master spy missions. Finding love in a world that had always left her out to dry. Then it hit her. What about Lugg? What's gonna happen to him if'n I die? We've always been a team. Why does everybeast I get close to get taken away from me? We can't be torn apart... not now. Gliv tried to clear her thoughts, but it was getting hard to focus. The world around her seemed to spin rapidly out of control, as if she was laying on top of a giant turn table. The injured stoat was ready to give herself up to the darkness that seemed to cloud her vision, when she was suddenly grabbed by strong paws that lifted her off the ground. As Gliv was carried off to lord knows where, memories rushed back to her like a flood of lava, as they seemed to burn her soul when she let herself recall them. Gliv closed her eyes and let her life play in front of her like a slideshow. Chapter 1: The Beginning Of The End The early dawn was quiet, with the rising sun casting a pinkish tint on everything in its wake. Every blade of grass in the wide open field twinkled when the newborn sunlight reflected off of the dew droplets that had coated them overnight. These were the kinds of mornings Gliv enjoyed most. It was almost an unwritten law that every morning, just before sunrise, Gliv would ride her horse Spartan up to that high valley in the mountains. She would stay up there for hours and not come back down until noontide, when the sun was high in the sky. This was Gliv's safe place, her escape from the chaotic and ever-changing world around her. Over the seasons, Gliv had made this sleepy little valley in to a nice retreat for herself: adding a makeshift shooting range by nailing wooden targets to the surrounding trees and foliage, harboring one of her mom's old tents to use as a shelter, carving words in to the wood of tree trunks with her knife, sanding down a fallen tree to use as a table and attaching a rope swing to a branch of a weeping willow that hung just above the Lake. Currently, Gliv was laying flat on her back, all sprawled out on the soft grass field. She sighed in contentment and blinked her hazel eyes as the sun hit her face. Suddenly, the young stoat jumped to her feet as an unexpected loud noise startled her. Gliv looked behind her to see Spartan holding a large plant in his mouth and bobbing his head up and down as if he was nodding. Gliv chuckled despite herself and tugged half of the plant from his lips so he could eat the other half that was already in his mouth. "Bitten off more than you can chew boy?" Gliv snickered. As if in response, the black stallion stamped a hoof and walked up to Gliv in what can only be described as a sassy swagger. Without warning, the hourse lunged forward and snatched the other half of the plant out of Gliv's paw. The stoat took a step back, almost stumbling back into the water as she did so. Gliv wiped her forehead with the back of her paw. "I'll take that as a yes then." ><>< On a secluded island far away from the bright sun kissed skies of Mossflower country, a parley was taking place. A large fox with dark red fur sat on the rockey beach of his gloomy island, watching expectantly as a small ship emerged from the gray fog that covered the coastline like a thick blanket. As the ship docked in the island's one and only port, a tall cloaked figure made an appearance. Then the strange fox stood, dusting off his long black sea coat as he did so. Both creatures made a slow walk towards each other, tension building in the air with every second. It was a few more minutes of agonizing silence before they finally met somewhere in between the dock and the spot on the beach where the fox had sat. Neither spoke a word, but the hate in their eyes was so clear that they didn't need to. The two beasts began to slowly circle each other, their keen eyes fixated on the other's every move. Meanwhile, scors of vermin soldiers began to crowd around their leaders with teeth bared and weapons poised to fire at the opposing side. One wrong move could turn this situation in to a blood bath for everybeast. Finally, the deadly silence was broken. Sheathing his saber, the fox waved a dismissive paw at his followers. "Oy mates! Now is that any way to treat our honored guests? Put those minnow stickers away and find somethin' useful ta do with yer lives." When there was no immediate reaction, the Corsair became impatient. "Did I stutter? Move!" As if awoken from a trance, the fox's crew hurried to follow his orders. Some fleeing the scene so quickly that they stumbled over the tails of their comrades. This of course led to much moaning and complaining from the victims, but nobeast dared start a fight. They knew better than that. The dog fox turned to the other creature, a business-like smile on his face. "Zwilt the Shade... how are you me old friend?" A sly smile crossed the sable's features. "I have to say that I'm better off than you Kylo. But then again, it wasn't always that way... as I'm sure you remember." Kylo nodded and kept his voice at a reasonable tone, though it was easy to tell that there was an undercurrent of disdain hidden just beneath the surface. "Indeed I do. But that was seasons ago, cully. How about a show of good faith?" Zwilt looked down to where the fox was pointing and it was then that the sable realized it was expected of him to put up his sword. Before Zwilt had the chance to protest, Kylo took a step back and put his paws in the air to show that he was unarmed. "Come on now, fair is fair. You wouldn't wanna get a reputation for bein' dishonest at a parley would ya? That's hard ta live down." Zwilt glared daggers at the Corsair, desperately wishing he could chop the fox's block off right there and now. Kylo seemed to read Zwilt's mind. "Not that I'm worried about ye killin' me or anything. Not even your stupid enough to go up against an intire island of trained seabeasts with nothin' but a motley assortment of part time sailors. Even if you did succeed in killin' me, there's no way you're making it out of here alive." As much as Zwilt hated to admit it, Kylo had a good point. Even if he and his Ravagers were better fighters than this lot, they would be defeated by sheer numbers. The sable groaned, but stayed his sword paw and sheathed his weapon. Then Zwilt turned to the few beasts he had brought with him. "Stand down Ravagers! All paws on deck!" Nobeast said a word until every single one of Zwilt's creatures had boarded the ship and were out of sight. Zwilt, ever a beast of swift action, was tired of the small talk and was ready to get to the point. "Enough with your foolish games Kylo! You were the one who wrote that letter requesting an audience with me. Now, state your business. Or so help me I will paint this island red with your insides, even if I have to go down with you!" A dangerous smile crossed the fox's lips. "Now that's the Zwilt the Shade I remember! Very well, I will tell you what your doing out here." Kylo walked a slow circle around the sable Commander before finally clapping him on the back. "As an old friend of mine, I thought it would be more than generous of me to give you a chance to surrender." "Do you mean to tell me that you want to wage war on me and my Ravagers?" Zwilt asked cooly. Kylo shook his head. "Oh don't flatter yourself. I'm not just comming for you and your ragtag bunch of vermin. I want to conquer the whole of Mossflower." Zwilt raised an eyebrow, but he decided to just let Kylo keep talking, knowing that he would get his answer sooner or later. "You see." The corsair fox continued. "I've lived a good life, but the fact of the matter is that I need a better living arrangement. True, I've been highly successful in the North, but the Winters there are simply unbearable and the promise of a warmer climate has more than doubled the size of my army." Kylo held out a paw. "Join me my friend. If we combine forces, our numbers will be unstoppable. With my cunning and your leadership skills, victory will be ours. I guarantee it!" The tall sable bared his sharp fangs. "Last time I joined forces with you, I ended up half dead in a ditch! You abandoned me when things got rough and I was no longer useful to you. Why should I believe a word you say?" Kylo frowned. "Because if you don't, I'll have absolutely no choice but to obliterate everything you've ever cared about. That's not a path you wanna take my friend. This Conquest will not be a pretty sight for those on the other side of it." Zwilt looked down at the ground, not saying a single word. For a moment, it seemed as though the sable commander was actually going to take Kylo up on his offer. However, any hope of that notion was incinerated as Zwilt looked up at the big dog fox and said one word. "When?" Kylo looked absolutely dumbfounded. "What was that ya just said?" The sable straightened his posture, looking the fox dead in the eyes. "This little skirmish of yours. When and where?" Kylo crossed his arms, tapping his claws on the sleeves of his sea coat. "Hmmm... how about one year from now? Next Summer. After all, I'll need time ta train new soldiers since you so selfishly refused to help me." Zwilt nodded decisively. "Mossflower country this time next year. Victor takes all." With that, the stealthy sable turned on his heel and began walking back to his ship. But before he could get far, Kylo stopped him. "Zwilt matey, hold on a moment." Zwilt did indeed stop, but he didn't look back over his shoulder as Kylo spoke. "If you didn't wanna see me, then why did you respond to me letter?" This he answered without turning around to face his former companion. "Because I had hope that all these seasons would've molded you in to a better beast. But the instant I saw you, I knew that I was wrong. Now I have no choice but to spill your blood all over Mossflower. Next time I see you, we'll be at each other's throats" No more was said between the two as Zwilt boarded the Ravager's only vessel and began his week long journey back to Mossflower Woods. ><>< At Salamandastron, things were in less than perfect regimental order. For starters, rations were reported missing from the kitchens, with no leads on the culprit. Then, the leverets were nowhere to be found for parade ground training. But the straw that really broke the cat’s back was the sudden disappearance of battle gear from the armory. After further investigation, it was realized that the amount of armor and weapons stolen was enough for at least ten beasts. This kind of behavior was unacceptable and frowned upon by the strict hares at Salamandastron. In short, breaking the regimental routine that the beasts on the mountain lived their lives by was nothing short of a serious offense. However, nobeast on the mountain was more puzzled then Lord Brang Forgefire himself. “I say Skinny, where do you think those young mischief makers have gone off to?” Skinny Swippton, one of Brang’s younger officers, twirled his mustache as he spoke. “I wouldn’t take it too close to heart Sire. Why, when I was a young rogue, I can remember zippin‘ about hither and thither givin’ the world blood and vinegar with my pals. It’s just what young scoundrels do!” Brang laughed heartily, taking a drink of ale from his tankard. “Yes, I remember all the trouble you got in to Mister Swippton. You made yourself quite a name around here.“ The badger shook his head. “But I suppose you’re right. Young ones will be young ones.” Skinny nodded, taking a vigorous bite of his slice of blackberry pie before speaking. “Aye. And besides, those blinkin’ little rogues have that Buckler Kordyne chap and his chubby friend to look after them. They’ll be right as rain, wot?” At the mention of Buckler and Diggs, Brang’s previously cheerful expression faded and changed into one of Long-suffering. “You mean... Buckler is with them?” The young officer, obviously oblivious to his master’s worried expression, continued in a nonchalant tone. “Oh yes. When I went to question old Buck himself about the disappearance of those blighters, he was nowhere to be found. Figured he’d gone off and taken them some place. I’ll wager he’ll be on a real fizzer when he gets back, wot?” Suddenly, Brang stood. “Off with you then. Go get General Flackbuth and tell him to meet me up here at once!” ><>< Flackbuth was a seasoned warrior and decorated member of the Long Patrol. Born and raised at Salamandastron, the hare trained his intire life to be the best that mountain had ever seen. In short, the guy was a total Goody Two-Shoes rule follower and the soldiers underhis command often teased him for it. Currently, the dignified General was in the mess hall taking in afternoon tea with some close comrades. To say that Flackbuth was surprised when Skinney came barreling into the room and knocking down several chairs in his wake, would have been an understatement. To make matters worse, such was the young hare's haste that he proceeded to trip on the long cloth draped over Flackbuth's table and faceplant directly into the General's food. Disgusted, the old hare wrenched Skinny's face up by his ears, snarling, "What in the name of bloomin' fates is this about young one? What makes you so special that you think you can just run around here like a madbeast, eh? I say, you better have a good excuse for this laddy-buck! Cause mark my words, you're on a real fizzer now, wot?" Skinney, obviously trying to recover the slightest twinge of his dignity by wiping meadow cream from his face, stammered, "Sah... I... well you see... Lord Forgefire..." Flackbuth shook him by his ears. "Don't stop there you young idiot! Lord Forgefire what?!" Though he was slightly out of breath, Skinney did indeed continue with his story. "Well you see General, I was chatting with our gracious Lord about the disappearance of those young welps when he went jolly well crazy! Told me to come get you, so I did." The expressions of the beasts in earshot changed almost instantaneously. The General's was a quick, noticeable shift from anger to urgency. And the other hares that Flackbuth was having tea with, many of whom were still chuckling at Skinny's foolishness, quieted down and looked just as stern as their Superior did. When Lord Brang was involved, it was usually a serious matter that had no business being laughed at. Giving Skinny one last shake by the ears, Flackbuth demanded, "Don't just stand there like a flippin' bump on a log lad! Get on with it, what did Lord Forgefire say?" "He didn't really say anything specific General. Just looked panicked. Told me he needed to see you." That was all Flackbuth needed. Releasing Skinny's ears, the hare General let his subordinate's face fall right back into the plate of scones. Lifting his now cream-covered face from the plate, Skinny watched his General strut hurriedly out of the mess hall. And the chuckles from the surrounding officers resurfaced as they heard their General call back over his shoulder at Skinny. "And by all bloomin' fates, wash yourself up lad! You look ridiculous!" However, when Flackbuth was well out of sight, Skinny simply shrugged and licked the delicious white meadow cream from his cheek. ><>< Flackbuth didn't have to be told, he knew he was being hypocritical. That's why he waited until he was completely out of sight to take off like a speeding torpedo down the long hallways and corridors that made up the inside of Salamandastron. Now, let's face it, General Flackbuth wasn't as young as he used to be. And even though he made good time to his Lord's forge, he was still panting pretty hard and had to lean against a wall to catch his breath before entering. He also took time to check his reflection and straighten his uniform in a newly polished shield hanging on the same wall he was currently resting on. Taking one last deep breath, Flackbuth raised his paw to the door of the forge to knock upon it. But that was as far as he got... As if he was able to sense Flackbuth's presence, Lord Forgefire swung open the door and grabbed the General by the collar of his uniform. Once the door was locked and Flackbuth had time to get over his sudden shock, the badger got right down to business. Lord Forgefire sat upon his seat by the window, burying his face in his paws. "It's my fault Flack. I should never have told him." The hare, looking genuinely confused asked, "What in the name of seasons are you talking about, Lord?" The badger shook his head. "It's Buckler. Remember that report you got last week from our spy analysis unit in Mossflower?" Flackbuth nodded, but he honestly looked rather unconcerned. "Aye. About their suspicions of a Ravager uprising. But I wouldn't take it too closely to heart Lord. The Ravagers haven't been active since... they were disbanded in the quarry." Brang sighed. "Yes. I recall that day all too well. And I've told young Buckler the story so many times, I'm beginning to feel like he was there with me. Aye, he resembles his grandfather so much that it's getting hard to tell the two apart. You know Flack, if it wasn't for Buckler's grandfather, I wouldn't be here today. A true blade master that beast was." The General bowed his head in respect, a tradition at Salamandastron whenever a fallen comrade is mentioned. However, Flackbuth took care to hide the resentment in his eyes. Though he had never met Buckler's grandfather, he was constantly being compared to him. Every time Flackbuth did something wrong, it was always a mistake that Feryn never would have made. If he managed to get something right, Brang would always make some passing comment about how Feryn could have done a better job or how much he wished Feryn could be there. But worst of all was the fact that Feryn's favor seemed to have been past down to Buckler. See, Feryn's son had never been a successful Long Patrol fighter. In fact, he was a clerk. And Feryn's first born grandson, Clerun, was about as good of a fighter as his father was. It wasn't until Buckler was born that Brang finally had another hare that resembled his old friend. Unfortunately, by that time, Feryn had died of old age and never got to meet his grandson. However, from the little Flackbuth actually knew about Feryn, he deduced that young Buckler was very much like him. Always running around and making like he knew better than everybeast else. Never listening to orders or respecting regimental routine. But because Buckler was Feryn's grandson, he had a free pass that protected him from almost all punishments. A pass that Flackbuth and the other hares only dreamed of possessing. When Buckler did something wrong, it was because he "possessed his grandfather's free spirit". But when anybeast else at the mountain did something wrong, they were given an intire season of guard house duty. If Buckler had to live up to the expectations of all the other hares, Flackbuth guessed he would never leave the guard house. Tired of his thoughts and eager to go about his day, Flackbuth tried to push the conversation along. "If you please Lord Brang, what do these reports have to do with Buckler?" The badger sighed. "I made the grave mistake of telling Buckler about the possibility of an uprising. You know him, so bold and ready to jump into action." Flackbuth simply nodded. "Aye, that he is." Brang continued, though he was slightly angrier this time. "I fear that young fool has taken a score of leverets to do some investigating. Sure, Buckler is a very talented fighter, but he stands no chance against the Ravagers with only a few youngsters at his back." Flackbuth tried to shrug the situation off. "But like I said before Lord, what makes you think the Ravagers are even still around?" Brang spun around to face his General. "I just do! You don't become Lord of Salamandastron with faulty instincts. Trust me Flack, those Ravagers are crafty beasts. They wouldn't stay quiet this long without a plan of Redemption. All they need is a chance." The General scratched an ear, looking at Brang almost challengingly. "What do you suppose we do then." Brang met Flackbuth's gaze. "Gather your troops. Take the best beasts under your command and tell them to be ready. You will have unrestricted access to the Armory as well. We leave at dawn!" Chapter 2: When One Door Closes Another One Opens The day was long and hot, inspiring Gliv to leave her secret valley a little early and head home. Her mother would surely be up and about by now. She always was. After all, a beast didn’t get a position as high as General of the Ravager Army for being a late sleeper. Gliv had always admired her mother for her confidence and aggression on the battlefiel, wishing to become a perfect clone of her. Unfortunately though, Gliv’s mom possessed some physical characteristics that Gliv herself fell short of. For instance, her mom was muscular and strong, while Gliv’s rather scrawny build was not good for much else other than letting her down whenever the stoat tried grabbing something even remotely heavy. “Your built for speed, that’s all.” Gliv could remember her mother’s voice clearly. That was the day when Gliv was told to hold a log above her head and run a mile as part of her training. Within the first five minutes the small stoat had tripped and dropped the log, unable to pick it back up because of its size. “Easy for you ta say.” Gliv mumbled in protest, looking down at the ground. “You’ve never had a problem with this kinda stuff.” The older stoat merely smiled, lifting her daughter’s chin and looking directly into Gliv’s bright hazel eyes. “We all have our strengths and weaknesses little one. If we were all the same, just imagine how boring life would be. Even on the battlefield, when two opposing sides are trying to best each other, Everyone has a different skill set and a different part to play. Now you may not be strong, but believe me when I say that you’re the craftiest creature I’ve ever met. Remember last week when you conned me out of my money?“ Gliv grinned wickedly and held up the wrist that now held a beautiful beaded bracelet. All the beads were the color of amber and were woven together by a shiny black leather cord. An item that was bought by way of Gliv convincing her mother to give her ten gold coins. The process wasn't easy and took Gliv a few days, but she finally obtained the coins by telling her mother they were going to be used to buy "fresh roses for the kitchen table". Even now, that same beaded bracelet remained strapped to Gliv's scrawny wrist, though it was a bit faded with time. So much time. Gliv ran a paw over the embroidery designs on her bracelet and felt tears threatening to pour from her eyes as she recalled that day with her mother. That was years ago, but the memory was so vivid that Gliv could have sworn it only happened yesterday. But then again, time was a cruel master and nothing was ever what it seemed. Gliv was taken aback at how much she'd grown since that day... how much had changed since that day. What Gliv lacked in brute strength, she made up for in cunning and street smarts. It might not be a skill that she was proud of, but Gliv was a natural born swindler and conbeast. In fact, swiping that bracelet was the first in a lifetime of deception and schemes for the young stoat. She just didn't know it yet. Misusing a few coins to buy a cheap bracelet off a market vendor would evolve into pickpocketing in full-scale scams. Those who judged her didn’t know what it was like to fight for survival. She couldn't have been more than ten years old when she first tried her paw at deception and her skills have only improved since then. That was, however, the last time Gliv ever took from her mother. Gliv couldn't stand the look of disapointment on her mother's face when she'd found out that she had been lied to by her own daughter. It tore her up inside, Seeing her mom sad always made Gliv feel terrible. Unfortunately though, it seemed like sadness was becoming a permanent part of both their lives. Admittedly, the reason Gliv kept up with her scams and cons was to get valuables so she could resell them. Maybe one day, she could even afford to pull herself and her mother out of poverty and into a better life. After all, what else could Gliv do to make up for making him leave? For being the very reason her mother was sad in the first place? The stoat shook her head, as if doing so would reset the contents of her mind. She honestly didn't know how long she'd been consumed by her thoughts, but it must have been a while, because the sun was now high in the sky, signifying noontide. The road back home was beautiful, a scenic trail carved into the high cliffs and steep mountain sides that made up the surrounding region in which Gliv lived. However, this road was also very long and treacherous to those who didn't know the way. The narrow dirt path became loose and slippery during the rainy season. And if somebeast should have the terrible misfortune of falling off the cliff, there is nowhere to go but into the wild seas miles below. But Gliv never feared such things. She had grown up traveling these old traid roads with her mother, and was nothing short of an expert. The stoat looked down at her horse, and immediately realized that he was getting sick of walking in this slow straight line they were currently following. Spartan was practically dancing, with his posture straight, long tail swishing behind him, his eyes alert, and his ears perked attentively. Occasionally, the horse would also stamp a hoof into the dirt or whinny impatiently. He looked as though he was preparing to run the greatest race of his life. All he needed was the go-ahead. Gliv smiled apologetically and patted Spartan's neck. "Sorry boy, bet your bored out of your mind just walkin' out here at a snail's pace. What da ya say we kick things up a notch?" As if in agreement, the black stallion reared up, almost knocking an unsuspecting Gliv out of the saddle as he did so. A smile crept over Gliv's face as she tapped her horse's side with her heel. Spartan took off like a speeding arrow, rushing by trees and green shrubbery so fast that Gliv's world became nothing more than one blur of color flashing before her eyes. Though Gliv wasn't the strongest of creatures, she never had a problem controlling her horse. Riding was a partnership, a bond formed between horse and rider. Especially so in Gliv's case, where she and Spartan seemed to move as one creature. Gliv loved being out in nature, feeling the cool winds hit her face as Spartan ran, and experiencing the loss of gravity when he cleared a fallen tree. It was the only time she felt truely free. As they entered the city limits Gliv had to force Spartan to a walk, fearing that he would run down any unsuspecting creature in his path. The town of Crescentville can’t be found on most maps. It is located on the very edge of Mossflower, where the high cliffs and treacherous waters made the land inhabitable for the Woodlander population. However, just like all else that was discarded by the Woodlanders, the land was left to the disposal of vermin misfits who had nowhere else in the world to go. The same rings true for the scores of Ravager soldiers that fled to this town after their leader was slain and the army disbanded. Of course, that was long ago, and most of the elders who were present that day have long since died of old age. Now, the offspring of those who came before are left to govern the small trade town. To keep its residence safe from the brutal touch of any Woodlander. This was Gliv’s little corner of the world, where beasts go to disappear. In fact, the only outsiders who even know of its existence are the vermin merchants who came through Crescentville a few times a year to sell their merchandise and restock their ships. It was during these times where the town was at its busiest, with marketplaces full of eager patrons dying to be among the first to purchase the new items brought from overseas. And who could forget the stunning shows put on every night by Crescentville’s street performers? Some of Gliv’s fondest memories were the times when she would perform trapeze stunts or sing to a roaring crowd. The other performers had always been kind to her and taught Gliv everything she knew about acting and acrobatics, two skills that definitely come in handy out on these streets. It was at this time that Gliv was also at her busiest. Aside from the shows she often participated in, Gliv had a job to do. Her goal was simple: talk the merchants into giving her something valuable in exchange for something she had swiped from a passer by or stolen from one of the other vendors, wait until the traveling merchants left town, and then go back to the marketplace in disguise to resell the valuables she collected in the days prior. However, the hard part came when someone wanted to see the item before they bought it. See, part of the trick is to advertise an item for sale, and then put it in a sealed box or bag. Of course, instead of containing the actual item, the box will have some kind of weight in it: usually a rock or the like. It just needed to be heavy enough to pass for the item being sold. Doing this brought in double the income. Not only did Gliv get to keep the money from the sale, but she also got to keep the items she was “selling”. These items were usually traded in exchange for food for Spartan, while the money was used to pay taxes and by food for Gliv and her mother. There was never a whole lot left over… but it was enough. When you’ve been on the streets as long as Gliv has, you learn how to read people. She knew what merchants had been there before, and which ones were new. She knew who was capable of figuring her out and who was not. She knew the right words to say, how to say them, and who to say them to. Perhaps the most important rule Gliv went by was never scam the same beast twice. Doing so would mean a higher chance of her getting caught. Gliv tried her hardest not to look into the eyes of the poor creatures she was taking advantage of. But in this town, few are ritch and it’s everybeast for themselves. At least, that’s what Gliv told herself when she was struggling to meet her own tear filled gaze in the mirror. As Spartan trotted on the gravel path that went straight through the center of the city, Gliv took note of the atmosphere around her. Right now, it was pretty much business as usual. She saw children playing games in the streets, the conversations of sailors at the port as they hurriedly made repairs to their ships, and of course the ever-present bargaining between merchants and patrons at the marketplace. But then, Gliv heard something... different. It was a loud, high pitched scream accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. More than a bit startled, Gliv spun around in her saddle and tried to locate the source of the noise. she found herself heading in the direction of Crescentville’s one and only tavern, which was located on a long peer overlooking the port.